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for times
I never took the time
days I let
get by
nights I slept
beyond the reach
of dreams
love I held
a moment long
candles blossom bright
paper plates
as graces
have become
a hundred years
from getting back
eighteen more
than then
pages bent
against me in the back
roads I know
from walking home
than the sun

seasons not
the heavier
for counting

. . .